Trespassed Ground
by Majesta Moniet
Summary: "Bella came to me with her chest full of holes and with her arms full of the little, shattered pieces she'd only recently started picking up off the ground." A collection of Twilight drabbles. Jacob/Bella with the potential of other pairings.
1. The Sidewalk's End

This story was created as a place for me to post my Twilight drabbles in one spot. Most of them are Jacob/Bella, but I won't completely discount the possibility of another pairing showing up. Keep in mind that each drabble will have its rating listed at the top of the "chapter."

* * *

**Title:** The Sidewalk's End**  
Rated:** K**  
Word Count**: 862**  
Written For: **thankthatstar in my Christmas drabble meme

"Just tell me!"

Jacob's fist slams against the steering wheel, and it jars Bella's heart inside her chest.

He's wild-eyed, a man with nothing left to lose (as far as he can figure, and Bella knows she won't be able to tell him otherwise). This isn't the closest they been—sitting in the cab of her truck as the rain pours so heavily on the windows it curtains the outside world away—but she feels physically closer with him in this moment than ever before. The future is crushing them from the front as the past presses in from the back, and this confrontation is inevitable.

"Jacob…I can't." Her voice cracks. "I don't know how to explain it."

He turns to her, angry and burning. "And what does that mean, Bella? You don't even know _why_ you love him. This,"—he tosses his hands into the air—"isn't a fairytale. This is life, and you can't just go around doing things because they make you feel good. There isn't some benevolent force out there who's gonna magically clean up all your messes so that your bad decisions don't effect anyone else."

She hates that he can make her feel like a child—not by treating her like one but by acting like the adult she's not. She's lost, and he knows it. "You don't need reasons to love someone, Jake. You just _do_ and—"

"Why do you love me?"

Bella blinks, tries to hold on to her righteousness which is slipping like sand through her trembling fingers. "What?"

"You love me," he says, and Bella won't—can't—dispute. "Tell me why."

He's not fishing for compliments; he's fishing for her sanity. It's the only reason Bella takes a calming breath and replies truthfully.

"I love your smile. It's sort of beautiful, and it makes me want to smile to."

She looks away toward the rippling windshield, hands clutched together in her lap. Truth is painful. Every word feels like a knife plunged into Edward's back.

"I love that when it's just the two of us, you're sweet and hold my hand. You drop your mask, and I feel your warmth like I used to. I love that you know me. You care what I think, and you you're not afraid to break me. But really…it's because when I'm around you, I feel good. Really good. Strong. I feel like I'm enough, like I could be happy this way."

She risks looking at him then. His eyes are distant, and she sees bit and pieces of a future reflected in them. It's a future she's seen before, one that haunts her dreams. Two dark-haired children, running…

"How does Edward make you feel?" Jacob can barely say _his_ name.

Bella exhales in relief. She knows the answer to this one by heart. And it doesn't hurt. "He makes me feel…"

But her tongue goes still. She wants to say many things. _Amazing. Wonderful. Special. Happy. Complete._

They are all words that sound contrived, hollow. Jacob would ask her _how_ he makes her feel wonderful. He wouldn't understand. And, suddenly, Bella suddenly doesn't understand either.

She loves Edward because he makes her feel…because…because he…

Well, Edward does lots of wonderful things. He cares about her, he showers her with adoration, he says he loves her, he spends time with her, and most importantly he's promised her forever. What other reasons does she need? What are reasons next to feelings? So what if she knows why she loves Jacob and not why she loves Edward?

What matters is she's made up her mind about what she wants, and it's too late to second guess.

_According to who?_

The cab is too small. The thoughts in her head overflow and crowd the space. Her hands turn clammy, fingers twisting together with unanswerable questions.

Jacob's watching her knowingly. Of course he's one step ahead, has been for months. And all this time he's been yelling over his shoulder for her to keep up. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped moving.

"I would do anything," he says quietly, but she knows it's meant to be a scream. Jacob Black is _screaming_ at her to open her eyes. But he's been screaming at her for months, and it hasn't done either of them any good.

Why does today feel different?

"I would do anything to keep you here."

Their eyes meet. Inevitably.

"I want to see you happy, Bells. But I also want to see you alive and living a full life. Under the sun. So tell me,"—he takes her hand in his—"what I can do to make you stay."

She stares at pale surrounded by russet, at soft surrounded by callused, at cool surrounded by warm, at small surrounded by large, at Bella surrounded by Jacob. And she knows _why_ this feels so good.

The next breath she takes is not a labored one. "Anything?"

"Anything."

Somehow her voice doesn't shake as she says, "Will you go away with me? Away from here? Right now?"

The key turns. The engine roars. "Where to?"

Bella peers into the rain but doesn't see it. "Where the sidewalk ends."

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**AN:** Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading. :)


	2. The Signal

**Title:** The Signal**  
Rating:** K**  
Word Count: **447**  
Written For:** audreyii_fic in my Christmas drabble meme. Prompt: _Jacob and Bella watching an episode of Firefly_

Embry barreled through the Blacks' front door, heart flying a mile-an-hour and a grin threatening to split his face in two. Smoke was practically rising from his heels as he came to a screeching halt in the living room, where Jacob and Bella were sitting side-by-side on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between as they watched television.

Embry took only a moment to catch his breath before waving his hands emphatically. "Guys! Hey guys!"

But neither one looked up from the TV. Instead, Bella reached for a handful of popcorn and said, "Jake, would you go out in public with me if I was dressed like that?"

Jacob continued staring at the screen, eyes glazed and expression intent. "When would you wear a poofy pink dress?"

Bella paused in her munching. "I dunno."

"Guys!" Embry shouted again. "I have big news! HUGE news! It's amazing—"

"But if I _did_, would you go out in public with me?"

Reaching blindly for the popcorn, Jacob sighed. He missed. Twice. "I just think Zoe's got it right, Bells. Wouldn't you prefer something with some slink?"

Scowling, Embry moved to stand directly in front of the screen. "Hey! I'm trying to tell you the best news of my life, and you can't stop watching this…this…what _is_ this crap?"

Jacob threw a handful of popcorn at him. "Joss Whedon's greatest masterpiece, the lifespan of which was cut tragically and unjustly short by network politics and a detrimental time slot. Now get the fuck out of the way. They're about to talk about engines."

Meanwhile, Bella was working up a small storm of indignation and gestured sharply toward the television as if she could somehow see _through_ Embry, who hadn't budged. "But that's not the point, Jake. If I wore a hideous pink dress, and you went out with me anyway, it would be a testimony of how much you love me."

"Would I have to wear the tight pants?"

Embry bristled. "As I was saying…BEST NEWS OF MY LIFE CAME TODA—",

"No, but if you did, I could call you my Captain Tightpants,"—Bella leaned closer and lowered her voice—"in private."

Ears scalding, Embry lunged for the remote on the coffee table. He jabbed triumphantly at the power button and…nothing. He hit it again. Again, nothing. There were still a bunch of over-dressed pansies prancing around the screen!

Embry scowled, continuing to press futilely at the remote's power button—the one on the TV itself hadn't worked in years. "What the hell is wrong with your remote, man?"

Bella and Jacob's talking had ceased. Their eyes slid slowly over to him in unison. "You can't stop the signal."

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**AN:** If you've never seen Firefly, go fix that ASAP. Favorite show of all time. :D


	3. One Fell Swoop

**Title:** One Fell Swoop**  
Rated:** K**  
Word Count:** 499**  
Written For:** the second drabble contest at sortofbeautiful

Three years. It's been three years, and Bella Swan is returning to Forks sans wedding band, sans happy vampire clan, and sans immortality—she clings to her dignity with bloody fingers.

Her cell phone bill is riddled with the digits of a single La Push land line (That was how she knew—knew that she was in the wrong place, wrong family, wrong skin—when she realized she spent more time on the phone listening to Jacob breathe than she did watching Edward's chest rise and fall in a mockery of it.). And as her tires hit the slick pavement of the small town, she doesn't stop, just keeps driving east until she passes an invisible treaty line and until she hears the distantly familiar crunch of gravel.

Not for the first time she wishes that she still had her busted, deafening, piece-of-shit truck so that she could drown out the heady thumping of her heart against her ribs, not hear the adrenaline curling down into her toes, and be oblivious to the _wa-woosh_ of air leaving her lungs too quickly.

She sounds like a freakin' freight train, so really it's no surprise when she hasn't even killed the engine and Jacob is already bolting from the front door of his shabby, red, tiny, perfect house.

Her clumsiness flares up as she attempts to detangle herself from the inescapable seat belt, and she's not fast enough—never has been, never will be—so Jacob has to yank her free and into his arms without so much as a 'hello.' Bella is so overwhelmed with the perfectness of it that a few embarrassing tears escape.

She wishes there were words. But there aren't enough syllables to fit together in just the right way to express the…the…sheer _relief_ of being home and being warm for the first time in…too long. It's been too long. But at the same time, it hasn't. Because it'll never be too long when they can still fit like this, still mold to one another so perfectly that they become…"Jabellacob Swackblan" (a spectacular result of one of Jacob's four a.m. bouts of genius after several hours of draining Quil's not-so-secret stash of Rez moonshine).

Jacob's wet laughter, however, speaks volumes, and even if her sniffling giggles are somewhat less eloquent, she shares them anyway.

She's so immersed in the reassuring tightness of his large arms and the newness of a few scars on his neck that she doesn't remember ever seeing, that when she hears the screen door open and then bang close again, she absently imagines it to be Billy, or Embry, or Quil, or…

But a sharp gasp has her face whipping up and her eyes crashing into foreign brown ones that reach out for her with their intensity.

He's Quileute. He's tall, broad, angular and strong, with awareness seeping from the tautness of his muscles.

He's a werewolf.

And he's staring at her like a man who's seeing the sun for the first time.

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**AN:** As always, I really appreciate the feedback everyone have been leaving me. I especially want to thank the anonymous reviewers who I couldn't send a personal response to. :)


	4. Found Causes

**Title:** Found Causes**  
Rated:** T**  
Word Count:** 500**  
Written For**: the first drabble contest on sortofbeautiful

Bella Swan was the most enticing creature on the face of the planet.

I told Quil that once, and he'd just snorted and said I was biased. "She's your girlfriend, of course you think that."

He'd been right. And wrong.

I was biased now. But I hadn't always been the luckiest bastard in the world. Bella Swan hadn't always been mine.

From the day she half-fell out of that rusted piece of crap she passed off as a truck and stumbled into my garage, looking like hell warmed over and scheming secret motorcycle plots, I'd been a goner. No biased there, just a friendly, pretty, older, broken girl.

I sort of had a thing for "lost causes." Like cars. New cars were nice; they were shiny and didn't require a lot of attention or work. But I preferred something a little less functional. Really, all I needed was a solid frame, a few borrowed parts, a fixable engine, and voila: my slice of heaven.

Because a car was really only worth the effort and labor put into it. Where the hell was the value in something that just fell into your lap? No, you couldn't truly appreciate it until you'd spent hours under the hood, elbow deep in oil and used parts, fixing all the leaks and tightening all the loose bolts.

And there was no better feeling than being elbow-deep in Bella Swan. She really was the mother of all lost causes: brokenhearted, slightly delusional, definitely unstable, an emotional wreck, a mess, a beautiful mess, my beautiful mess.

She thought she couldn't be fixed, that she wasn't worth my time.

Complete shit.

Sure, she had some serious issues—the girl had fallen in love with a bloodsucker, a cold, dead stone, for Christ's sake, but we all had issues—I'm the guy who fell in love with the girl who fell in love with a vampire. So we're both screwy. Two peas in a seriously deranged pod.

But she was broken, and I wasn't.

Bella came to me with her chest full of holes and with her arms full of the little, shattered pieces she'd only recently started picking up off the ground. She asked me to help fix the bikes, but what she really wanted was for me to fix her.

She was getting better. Or, at least, I thought she was.

I wondered sometimes, when she'd double over and clutch at her chest—all breathless and wide-eyed—if she'd ever really let me into where the brunt of the damage was. As badly as she wanted to be whole again, she was equally afraid that when I saw the extent of her brokenness, I wouldn't be able to fix it or, even worse, wouldn't want to.

She thought I'd leave her like _he_ did. Mother. Fucker.

She was more than worth any effort I could ever give. I'd never wanted to fix anything or help anyone more than I'd wanted to make Bella whole again.

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**AN:** I'm amazed at the feedback I'm getting for these little stories. You guys rock. One thing I want to clear up is that these drabbles are all independent fics. They're not connected in a single story arc. Some of them could take place in the same alternative universe, but beyond that, the "chapters" are not related. There seemed to be a little bit of confusion about that and I apologize.


	5. SZFCUSA

**Title:** Supermassive Zombie Faith Confessions in the USA**  
Rated:** T**  
Word Count:** 500**  
Written For:** the monthly drabble contest on theair_thesun. Prompt: _iPod shuffle; write a 100 word drabble for the first 5 songs that play  
_

**1. Party in the USA - Miley Cyrus**  
_My tummys turnin and I'm feelin kinda home sick / Too much pressure and I'm nervous / That's when the taxi man turned on the radio_

Her heart wasn't working right. It was too loud, too fast, too much. And it hurt. Badly.

But her knee was broken too. It kept popping up and down, almost bumping the cab seat in front of her as they turned onto the road leading into La Push.

And her stomach…

She pictured Alice's disappointed face left floating in the airport terminal and felt nauseous. But there was a song on the radio talking about home, and she tried to picture Jacob's relieved face instead.

He opened the cab door with "Hey, Honey," and the butterflies flew away.

**2. Faith - George Michael**  
_Oh baby I reconsider / My foolish notion / Well I need someone to hold me / But I'll wait for something more _

"Jacob, there's something I have to tell you," she tells the exposed Rabbit engine.

"Shoot," it encourages, and she risks a look at the jean-clad legs dangling from its underbelly.

"It's about Edward."

"Uh-huh." The car isn't surprised.

"He asked me to marry him." The seats through the windshield are as dark as Jacob's eyes. "I said yes."

The car is silent for almost five seconds before declaring, "That's real great, Bells."

She's surprised and a little hurt. "You're not upset?"

"Nah. I did some soul-searching and realized you're a complete waste of time. Pass me the wrench, will ya?"

**3. Supermassive Black Hole - Muse**  
_Ooh, baby don't you know I suffer? / Oh, baby can you hear me moan? / You caught me under false pretenses / How long before you let me go?_

"Dude," Embry murmured, "status update."

Jacob nervously eyed Bella who was moving about his kitchen, spatula in hand. "Fuck off," he whispered.

But Embry just hopped over the back of the couch and cornered him against the arm. "Still just 'friends' then, huh?"

Jacob's silence spoke volumes.

"I've got something for you." Embry offered a folded square of notebook paper. "Fell out of her book bag."

Of course he opened it. And he couldn't help smiling down at his bold name doodled with flowers and superfluous swirls.

Embry looked victorious. "I think it's a preliminary design for your wedding invitations."

**4. Zombie - The Cranberries**  
_In your head, in your head, / Zombie, zombie, zombie, / Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head, _

The sun is still a sun. But in name only, and I'm not certain who turned off the heat.

I don't blame Him for any of it. For the extinguished sun, the dull stars, or the meaningless waking hours. I forced Him away, so maybe I forced those away, too.

I'm not glad that they're gone but not sad either. In fact, I've started to forget why I ever needed those things in the first place. What did the sun ever do for me anyway?

I see Jacob Black smile for the first time in months and get my answer.

**5. Confessions Part II - Usher**  
_If I'm gonna tell it then I gotta tell it all / Damn near cried when I got that phone call / I'm so thrown and I don't know what to do_

Bella hit the rewind button on the answering machine for the fourth time. She listened to the soft whir of an invisible tape, the droning beep, and then,

"Hey, Bells. It's me. Uh…I'm calling to tell you goodbye. I guess. Not that we wont ever see each other again, but tomorrow's your big day, and you're leaving for your honeymoon right afterward, so the next time I see you, you'll be…damn, you'll be married. And I just wanted to say—well, a lot of things—but mostly…Goodbye, Honey."

She didn't hit the rewind button. She picked up the phone.

* * *

**AN:** Don't judge my taste in music. It's just very eclectic, I swear. xD

The first drabble was actually the basis for my o/s Broken Lies the Road. If you recognize it, that's why.


	6. According to Plan

**Title:** According To Plan**  
Rating:** T**  
Word Count: **500**  
Written For:** the second sortofbeautiful drabble contest. Prompt: _from now on our troubles will be miles away_

"Dude, man, you look _green_."

"No, Embry. Puce. He looks puce."

"You know what, Quil? I think you're right. And you know what sounds like 'puce.'"

"Uh, ruse, loose, noose…puke."

"Say, Jake, you're not gonna puke, are ya?"

There was no use denying it. Jacob had no friends. Because whatever the two grinning morons currently heckling him were, they most certainly weren't his friends. You like your friends.

Friends were supportive.

"Just remember, Jake, if she says 'no' it only means you're a complete and utter failure that no woman could ever love or want to spend the rest of her life with. But you've still got us, and we could never think any less of you."

"Embry's right, my man." Quil clapped him painfully on the back. "We already consider you the shit on the bottom of our shoes."

Definitely not his friends.

* * *

"Jacob! Wow you look great."

No, he looked puce.

But she…looked like Bella. Which was always amazing.

"Bells," he breathed. And after helping her into the car—his right hand constantly flexing towards his suit pocket—the two were off.

He had reservations. He had his lines memorized. He had the servers in on it. He had the perfect moment prepared. He had a plan.

He had _had_ a plan.

* * *

"Dinner was great. Perfect."

"Uh huh."

Her eyes bore into him from the passenger seat.

"Jake, do you feel okay? You've been acting strange all night."

If 'strange' meant nauseous, spineless, and nervous as fuck, then she was a freakin' mind reader, and he was in deep shit.

"Are you sick? You look a little…"

"Puce."

She made a face. "I…well—"

* * *

"Will you marry me?"

Not only did he have no friends, but he also had no tact—the complete lack of the latter maybe being a reason for the shortage of the former. Not only that, but he was fairly certain that he no longer had a girlfriend either.

He had proposed. At a red light. In a shitty car.

He was so fucked.

"Did you just…ask me to marry you?"

Think fast.

"No."

A long silence, and then, "I think you did."

* * *

No friends + no tact + no girlfriend = no dignity.

"We can pretend that I didn't."

She was staring at him. Hard. With unfathomably dark eyes that he wanted to spend the rest of his life looking into just so—

"Yes."

He sighed in relief. All was not lost. "Thank you."

"No."

What? "Huh?"

"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

* * *

He blinked, smiled, and then remembered…

"I—I have a ring…somewhere." He was fumbling through his pockets when Bella leaped across the console and attacked him, with lips pressing, and hands clutching, and laughter spilling. She whispered reassurances he suddenly found he didn't need, and he wondered at ever being nervous at all.

Jacob was still down two friends, his tact, and a girlfriend.

But he was up by a fiancé, and, well…that was fucking fantastic.

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**AN:** Thanks for reading and leaving feedback, you guys. That's awesome of you. :)


	7. That Sunny Day

**Title:** That Sunny Day**  
Rated:** K**  
Word Count:** 322**  
Written For:** the monthly drabble challenge at theair_thesun. Prompt: a poem by David Harkins (begins: _"You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived_…").

It was sunny on the day she left.

He stood in the corner of the room and watched as she folded and re-folded clothes with shaking hands before shoving them anxiously into the bulging bag. In went the jeans, and the t-shirts, and the blouses, and the Austen. The dresses Alice had bought in Milan were left hanging friendless in the closet, piles of pointy shoes that crowded the floor mounting an effort to comfort them. Romeo and Juliet lay abandoned on the nightstand.

It was sunny on the day she left. And he was glad for it.

The yell of the zipper closing was unable to drown out the _quick-quick-quick_ tempo of the heart in her chest, and if it weren't for that sound—that beautiful, simple rhythm that had kept him company for so many nights over the past year—he wouldn't have been able to meet her dry eyes without screaming. But he _could _hear it, so when she walked over, took his immobile hand, and danced her warm lips across his knuckles, all he did was breathe in her flavor one last time. Freesia and hope.

It was sunny on the day she left. And he was glad for it. Because all he could do was watch.

He followed her down the stairs, ignoring the consoling thoughts of his family and the small smile of his sister. The door was his finish line, but not hers. She crossed it with the purpose of someone who had many—but not countless—miles to go. Her feet touched the wood, the concrete, the pavement, the interior of a red Volkswagen Rabbit. Her heart began to slow until it found the pace of the one nearest it.

It was sunny on the day she left. And he was glad for it. Because all he could do was watch. The smile that appeared as they drove away would not be his last.

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**AN:** I rarely ever write EPOV, but I always enjoy it when I do. He's an interesting guy. Thanks for the feedback, everyone. :)


	8. WTF

**Title:** WTF**  
Rated:** K**  
Word Count:** 345**  
Written For:** the monthly drabble contest on theair_thesun. Prompt: _crossover  
_

"Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it."

"Bella, come on! Were gonna be late!"

She groaned and fell to the floor beside her bed, blindly searching underneath the frame with both hands. "I'll be right there!"

Dust bunny. Bite-sized candy bar from Halloween. Sock. Unopened condom (so that's where it went). Last month's issue of Car and Driver. Dust _hippo_…

Where the hell was it?

"Go ahead and take your time, Bells. It's not like we've gotta save the Earth or anything," a voice drawled sarcastically from the doorway, and she turned around to frown disapprovingly.

"Look, Jake, that's not very helpful. I can't find my…"

The small, knowing grin on his face told her everything.

"You!" she seethed, while rising from the floor.

Jacob smiled broadly and shrugged, not looking the slightest bit repentant, even as she approached him with a scowl.

"It's not funny anymore," she hissed.

"It's hilarious," he disagreed, watching as she stomped past him and across the hall into the bathroom. "In fact it gets funnier every time."

Bella rolled her eyes and flung open the medicine cabinet above the sink. There, on top of the bright pink bottle of Pepto Bismol, was what she had spent that last _thirty_ minutes looking for. She snatched it up with a scowl.

Embry, Quil, Leah, and Paul all perked up as Jacob and Bella exited the house.

"About fucking time," Leah growled. "I have plans tonight."

"Sorry," Bella muttered, "but _someone_"—she glared at Jacob—"hid my ring again."

Embry chuckled. "Same place?"

"Yep," Jacob grinned.

Sighing, Quil shook his head. "Not too bright, is she?" The look he cast Jacob was sympathetic. "Should've held out for a baby to imprint on. Like I did."

Bella nodded with a sniffle. "I'm so useless."

"Got that right," Leah grumbled.

"Are we doing this or not?" Paul interrupted, and everyone quickly assembled in a loose circle on the Black's front yard.

After catching everyone's eye, Quil took a deep breath and punching his fist into the air. "Earth!"

"Wind!"

"Fire!"

"Water!"

"Heart!"

"Bellyaching!"

* * *

**AN:** Sorry I've been neglecting this drabble collection! Both this one and my TMI one got put on temporary hold when I started posting my WIP Keep the Next Breath. I promise you won't have to wait as long for the next drabble. As always, I appreciate the feedback you guys leave me. This one probably didn't make much sense if you haven't seen Captain Planet. But drabble crossovers are epically fun to write. xD


	9. Kitty Jammies

I know it's been forever since I updated this fic collection, but this one is extra long (definitely more of a oneshot than a drabble), so maybe that makes up for it? Probably not. :3

I wrote this for Justine's birthday. Originally I planned on only posting it to my LJ, but here it is! It's pure fluff really, so if you don't like that (or babies), turn back now.

* * *

**Title: **Kitty Jammies**  
Rated:** K**  
Word Count: **1,742  
**Written For:** Justine (my wife, my Jace, the Flynn to my Rapunzel, etc.)

"You're freaking out."

It must have come out a little too smug, because Jacob shot her one of his side-eyed glares before continuing to rifle through the pink My Little Pony backpack. "No. I'm looking to make sure she packed a toothbrush."

"It's in there. I put it in the plastic baggie with her toothpaste."

"I'm just making sure."

She nodded and hid a smile behind her mug of hot chocolate. It had been like this all day-Bella a spectator to Jacob's slow but sure spiral into the dark abyss of Overly Protective Parenting. And _he_ had been the one who had teased _her_about being a worry wart because she made the kids wear hats outside during the summer and didn't let them walk alone with Claire to the park down the road. Tonight the tables were turned. Tonight was Kami's first slumber party.

"You know, if the temperature keeps dropping, the roads are going to get bad. Maybe I should drive her." He zipped the bag closed and turned his attention to the muted television. There was nothing on the radar except for a small speck of blue floating just north of them. The snow was melting off the front lawn as they were speaking.

"It's a twenty-five minute drive. There's no need for us and Sam to both make the trip. She'll be fine riding with them," she said, and made sure to use her it's-no-big-deal voice (because if she sounded at all amused or argumentative it would quickly become a big deal whether or not it really was.) Smiling, she added, "Plus, I think the other parents have a petition going around to keep you away from their sons."

Jacob turned from the television, looking horrified. "Are there going to be _boys_there?" As if 'boys' were some sort of ferocious, disease-ridden rodents hell-bent on infecting every innocent child they encountered.

"She's _four_."

"So...is that a 'no,' then?"

She was saved from having to dignify the question with a response by the sound of feet pounding down the hall. "Mommy! Mommy, I can't find the purple kitty jammies."

Small hands clutched at the material of her jeans, and Bella looked down into the dark brown eyes that were the mirror image of her own. She placed a hand on top of her daughter's fine, dark hair. "Did you look in your laundry basket?"

"Yes. The pink kitty jammies were there but not the purple ones."

"Why don't you just take the pink ones with you then?"

"But Tara and I have to match!"

Bella straightened the clip holding back the bangs she was trying to grow out. "I'm sorry, baby, but I think the purple ones are in the washer. They won't be done in time for you to take them. You'll have to wear pink."

When Kami saw that she wasn't going to get what she wanted from Bella, she made a noise of distress, ran over to Jacob instead and wrapped an arm around his leg. She swung her head back to look up at him. "Daddy, I want to wear the purple kitty—"

He scooped Kami up in his arms the way Bella couldn't anymore. "Sweetie, what does Daddy say about boys?"

Kami's hands were immediately drawn to Jacob's hair, and she twisted the dark strands between her fingers. "They're not really nice. Even if they pretend to be," she replied dutifully.

"Unless..."

"Unless you tell me they're nice."

He rewarded her with a kiss on the cheek. "That's right. And Daddy's List of Nice Boys is very, very short. So if you see anyone who's _not_ on the List at the sleepover, don't take any fruit snacks they offer you and don't put your sleeping bag next to theirs, okay?"

"Jacob!"

"What?" He met Bella's scandalized glare with wide, innocent eyes. "It's important to initiate good habits when they're young."

"She's going to grow up thinking boys are monsters, and it will be your fault."

"That's what I like to call responsible parenting."

"Daddy's a boy," Kami noted and rested her head on Jacob's shoulder, arms around his neck.

"But Daddy's a _married_ boy," he clarified. "He's married to Mommy. Because she's so beautiful."

Bella shook her head at the sly smile he sent her and returned her attention to the pasta cooking on the stove. Clearly, Jacob had charmed his way through their first five years of marriage. She planned on being much more renitent for the next five.

"Daniel's a boy."

"But he's your brother. He's the boy in charge of telling me when you talk to other boys who aren't on the List." One more firm hug and Jacob set Kami back on the ground.

She stared back up at him. "What about Uncle Quil and Uncle Embry? They're boys."

"That," Jacob said, "remains to be proven. No matter what Uncle Embry says about a girl named Hannah who lives in St. Paul."

Just as Bella turned off the burner on the stove, a muffled wail sounded from down the hall. She carefully poured the pasta into sink strainer. "Will you help her finish packing? Daniel's awake."

"Sure thing, Bells." Jacob snatched up the suitcase in one hand and gently tugged his daughter's hair with the other. "Let's go, Kami Lamby. We'll see if we can't solve this kitty jammies mystery."

They disappeared into Kami's room, and Bella slipped into the nursery to find Daniel standing in his crib, dark curls plastered to his face with sweat. He grinned up at her, revealing his four teeth. He hummed his excitement as she reached for him. The warm weight of his body settling against her chest was one of the most rewarding comforts of being of a mother. His hand fisted in her shirt.

"Did you have a good nap, baby? I bet you're thirsty."

As she made her way back to the kitchen she passed by Kami's room and heard Jacob relaying the importance of clean underwear. Bella grinned to herself while getting Daniel settled in his high chair and then went about putting a bottle together.

Fifteen minutes later she had the table set with dinner, and Jacob and Kami still hadn't reemerged. Her eyes slid to the clock, to the front door, and to Daniel's content face. Grabbing the box from the counter she dropped a sprinkling of Cheerios on his tray and tapped his nose before heading back down the hall. She paused when she reached her daughter's doorway, leaning against the frame as she took in the sight of Jacob and Kami sitting on the floor, doused in the dirty clothes from overturned laundry basket. Kami sat between her father's sprawled legs, the wrinkled purple pajamas lying across her lap.

"I don't want to go," she said in a small voice.

"But it'll be fun," Jacob encouraged. "You'll get to see all your friends."

"I don't want to go, Daddy." She leaned into his chest. "I want to stay with you. Will you read me The Hungry Cat erPpillear, please?"

Bella saw the weakness as it flashed across Jacob's face in a moment of hesitation. She knew he wanted to say 'yes.' He wanted her to stay exactly where she was, and he would have read to her all night until she fell asleep if she asked him to. It wouldn't have been the first time. Jacob was a natural father, fiercely protective and brazenly in love. After their safety, his children's happiness was first and foremost in his life, and Kami's _please_s were undeniably one of his weaknesses.

Bella watched, lip caught between her teeth, as Jacob slowly raised a hand and rubbed it in small circles against his daughter's back.

"There's no time for the _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_," he said. "Sam's going to be here with Tara soon, and you still need to eat dinner."

Bella let out a small sigh of relief.

"I don't want to go."

"The pink kitty jammies are going to be just perfect, Kam." Jacob sounded enthusiastic now as he got to his feet and set Kami on hers.

She frowned and wiped at her eyes. "But Tara and I are supposed to match."

"But if you were both wearing the same pajamas, how would anyone tell you apart? No one would know who's Tara and who's Kami."

The forlorn look she was giving him didn't budge. "I'll tell them I'm me."

"Plus," Jacob continued and went to the room's single dresser, "I like the pink ones better." He pulled out a pink top with a garish cartoon bunny on the front and pair of pants with smaller bunnies running the length of each leg.

Kami was watching him closely. "Why?"

Jacob shot Bella a needy look, but she only shrugged her shoulder at him, too amused to come to his rescue.

"Because…pink is brighter than purple." He nodded triumphantly. "It looks pretty with your eyes, it matches your book bag, and it's my favorite color—"

The rumpled purple pajamas fell from Kami's hands to the ground. "I want to wear the pink ones."

In a few hurried steps she was at Jacob's side, and he passed her the clothes, which she quickly stuffed into her open bag. He zipped it for her when she was done, and Kami accepted it with a smile. "Thank you, Daddy."

And then she took off out the door.

Bella chuckled at how haggard Jacob looked as he made his way over to her. Once she had her arms wrapped around his waist, she gave him an affectionate squeeze. "Good job. I'm proud of you."

His sigh tickled the top of her head. "If she'd started crying, I would have been a goner."

"But she didn't." Bella rested her chin on her chest so that she could meet his eyes. "And neither did we, so let's consider this a victory. She'll be fine, you know."

Jacob shook his head, but he was smiling. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel the tension draining from his body until finally he returned her embrace. His lips grazed her temple. "How long do you think she'll remember I said pink was my favorite color?"

"I think that in eight years it will be a very hazy, distant memory."

"Eight years, huh?" Jacob sounded resigned.

"Of course, Quil and Embry will undoubtedly remember it for much, much longer."

His groan followed them into the kitchen.

~ **_fin_** ~


End file.
